Coming Out 2020

I feel like a fake, a fraud, and I have a huge confession to make.

I used to think that if my writing process didn’t look like the perfectly polished posts cluttering up the #bookstagram and #writersofig Instagram tags that I was doing something wrong. That maybe my writing process, something that is so close to me that it may as well be an extension of my physical being, was wrong.

You see, my writing process is in no way white bedsheets, candles sitting almost always unlit and on a bed, with a cup of coffee or tea neatly staged nearby in a pretty cup, with an open notebook filled with beautiful handwriting, and a charming little pastry nearby. There is absolutely nothing taupe or warm shades of brown, typewriter coffeeshop vibes, or inspirational quotes about me or my writing process.

I am not wine glasses lifted high in photographs at a happy hour surrounded by friends or lovers, full faces of expertly done makeup, or highly photogenic and well-behaved pets. I have no pictures of beautiful, faraway places, or many dreams to pack up and leave the dingy little town that I grew up in.

I do not paint, I scarcely draw, and not very well. I do not keep plants. I have one, a rose of the desert succulent, that for the life of me I do not know where it came from. It simply showed up one day last year, and lives in an odd little planter with a strange goblin face. This thing should be long dead, considering the abuse I’ve put it through, forgetting that it exists entirely until I crawl up into my window well to open or close the window. Only then does it get water, or the care it needs.

But it is still going, like me. Starve it, knock it over, forget it’s there and still somehow it survives. It perseveres.

Unlike most “successful” authors that I follow, I do not have a cat. As if this lack of witch’s familiar is the answer to my lack of success at being an author. No, I am most unconventional in having a dog, and while he is both poorly behaved and unphotogenic, he is the perfect thing to cheer you up after a hard day with his silly antics.

No, I do not have a cat. We do, however, have two neighborhood strays- a black cat, and a strange tortoiseshell, Binx and Winnie. We feed them both but, that isn’t quite the same and I know it. I’m also lucky enough to have two little goblin sugar gliders and three amazing pet snakes. In the past, I’ve also had hedgehogs, and they were the sweetest little loves of my life.

Unlike the beautifully talented authors that I follow, my candles are burnt, almost daily until I’ve used them up and nothing is left. My coffee is almost always drunk from an oversized cup shaped like a pumpkin long before it has had time to set and cool at my desk, and my handwriting is nothing at all to boast about. I do not want flowers in my coffee, sitting atop the cream or foam. Most coffee drinks and teas are made at home thanks to my Keurig, a teabag, or sometimes packets of instant coffee if I’m feeling in the mood for something simple.

I do not get perfect, Instagram-worthy treats from the bakery. You’ll find almost nothing but smashed, squished, beaten up, and sometimes malformed treats that were made by my own hands, or the hands of those that I love. And at times, they taste just that much more amazing because I, my grandmother, or Angel are the ones who made them.

In my diet, you will find almost nothing plant-based. I am a spoiled lover of all things full-fat milk and cream, cheese, and bacon. Probably too much cheese, if such a thing exists. Meat and potatoes make up a majority of my diet and my shopping list, seeing as I am the main “chef” of my family, and I am not yet lucky enough to hire my own, or set aside my day job to stay home fulltime.

I won’t post about things like politics, I want nothing to do with rioters or rioting, and my beliefs lie solely in the fact that you should love who you love, no matter what anyone else says, and that you should always try to be kind when and where you can. I, myself, am more than a little peace and love and a bit of little fuck off. Sexism and needless hatred have no place in my life. So, you won’t find many controversial posts on my blog, or my Instagram, or anything else.

I am also a full and firm believer in gay rights, women’s rights, and transgender rights. If you are being true to yourself, and respecting yourself and those around you, then that is all that matters. Everyone should have the chance to live a happy and fulfilled life instead of fearing what other people might say. So, if you see me standing at a Pride Parade and you want to call me gay or queer or whatever else, you go right ahead. I’ve been called worse. There is nothing shameful about being called either of those things, especially not when some of the people I love the most are part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Love is Love damn it.

So, I’m proud to say that in honor of #ComingOut2020 that I believe you should love and be with whoever the hell makes you happy no matter what “parts” they have. Love who you love, be kind and be safe. It is a crazy world out there in 2020, we shouldn’t be judging people based on who they love, who they don’t, what parts they have, or anything else.

However, I also believe that we should love ourselves, and forgive ourselves. So, I have a confession to make, I haven’t been the nicest to myself lately. I’ve been basing where I am at in my life off of where others are, and where I would like to be. I have been my own worst enemy, and my own abuser these past 11-days as well as the past 15-years since finding my passion for writing.

It is my hope that someday, I can honestly come to you and promise you that I won’t be doing that anymore. But for now, all I can promise is that I am trying. Happy Coming Out Day 2020.

-S.N.L.